


Rejoined

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [18]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Car Accidents, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Violence, Serious Injuries, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25279948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: AU. Burke escapes the truck with Rook.
Relationships: Cameron Burke & Female Deputy
Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789369
Kudos: 10





	Rejoined

“When you get changed, you come and see me- we’ll check on your Marshal friend, and see if we can’t _unfuck_ this situation.”  
  
[---]  
  
Unfucking this situation was going to be difficult.  
  
It seemed that Burke had been fucked up pretty badly in the crash: His leg was in a splint, his breathing was raspy, and he had dozens of little cuts on his face and arms, mostly from where his skin had been exposed when the window of the truck had shattered. Rook was cut up and bruised, but otherwise unharmed. “I think my hip’s broken too,” Burke croaked, shifting slightly in the bed and gritting his teeth. “Fuck. I’m too fucking young to have a broken hip.”  
  
“It’s all downhill after twenty-five, Marshal,” Dutch snorted, glancing at Rook. “Your time’s coming, kiddo.”  
  
Rook rocked back and forth on her heels nervously. “This isn’t good- you really should be in a hospital.”  
  
“You wanna drive him to one?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Rook grunted.  
  
“I wouldn’t want you to,” Burke said. “Seriously. Those crazy motherfuckers would mow us down. Or maybe crash a plane into us to stop us from getting out.” There was a haunted look to his eyes that suggested he was recalling their two narrow escapes the night before, from the helicopter and the truck. The thought made Rook clench up a bit. Burke had clearly been at this for years, but those Peggies she’d shot the other night were the first people she’d ever killed. She’d only been a Deputy for little over a month now, and most of it had been paperwork and training with Hudson and Pratt.  
  
She’d known going to arrest Joseph was going to be a shit-show, but she didn’t think it was going to be like _this._  
  
“I can go out and get a feel for what’s happening on the island,” Rook suggested. “Maybe get rid of some of those shrines you mentioned, Dutch.”  
  
“Great, let’s send the Millennial Greenhorn Cop to fix the problem,” Dutch grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
“Do _you_ want to go do it?”  
  
“I’m not what I used to be, Marshal.”  
  
“Then we’re going to send the Millennial Greenhorn Cop who also happens to be in the prime of her life fix the problem,” Burke said flatly.  
  
“Does the Millennial Greenhorn Cop get a say in this?” Rook asked, mostly amused by her new moniker.  
  
“Not unless you want to wait until Eden’s Gate’s knocking on our door.”  
  
Dutch went to get her a map and a gun, and Rook waited in the bedroom with Burke in the meantime. “I’ll take a look around for any painkillers,” She assured him, tapping her foot restlessly as she waited. “Dutch says there’s a few buildings on the island that might have emergency supplies.”  
  
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Burke was eyeing her carefully. “You realize that whether it happens now or later, you’re gonna have to shoot someone before this over, right?”  
  
Rook stopped tapping, stomach clenching. “I shot people last night.”  
  
“Sure you did, but most of that was in the dark. There’s a difference between seeing bodies drop in the dark when you’re panicked and not looking at them too closely, and seeing them in broad daylight when you’re focused and paying attention.”  
  
“Are you speaking from experience?”  
  
“Hell yes.”  
  
Rook swallowed. Burke was right, and she knew it: She hadn’t gotten a good look at any of the Peggies she’d shot and undoubtedly killed last night. She didn’t regret it, per se- there wasn’t a court in the country that would convict her for shooting a bunch of gun-wielding psycho cultists who had been trying to murder her in the process of her attempt to arrest their leader- but she wasn’t _happy_ about it either. “Yeah, well, I’m a cop and it’s not like we’ve got a choice, right?”  
  
Burke nodded, eyeing her with something like respect- apparently she’d given the right answer. “Damn right you are.” A beat. “Still, be careful out there, Rook. If last night was bad, it’ll be even worse today.  
  
“Will do, Marshal.”  
  
[---]  
  
John Seed had Hudson.  
  
Rook had cleared the island over the course of the day, crawling through the underbrush with a pistol on her hip and a bow and set of arrows from the washed-out bunker she’d managed to drain near the boathouse.  
  
Thank God for those years of dedication to archery; shame Deputies weren’t authorized to carry bows on them in the line of typical duty, because she was a hell of a distance shot with this thing.  
  
It certainly helped her keep her cool: The more distance there was between Rook and her target, the less likely it was that she would see the blood, the physical and visual fallout of the kill she’d just made. She’d edged around the bodies at the Forest Research Station and the Ranger’s Station and done her best not to look, but Rook had caught glances here and there, stomach churning when she registered the unique look of a corpse’s face, the lack of movement or sound.  
  
She was a lot better at killing than she thought she’d be.  
  
“Alright, Dutch,” Rook had called at the top of the radio tower, slowly lowering herself to sit with her legs dangling down the ladder-hole. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but standing on the narrow platform was far too disorienting and she was terrified she would fall. “It’s done. Can I get down now?”  
  
A beat. “ _Signal’s coming in clear now, you should be good._ ”  
  
“Anything else for me to do while I’m out here?” Rook asked once she was on solid ground, knees shaking from the adrenaline of being up so high.  
  
“ _I’d rather you hurried back. Your Marshal’s getting on my nerves._ ”  
  
Rook had sighed, and headed back towards the bunker.  
  
Now they were watching John’s little commercial about “The Power of _YES_ ”, with Hudson trussed up beside him as he made his pitch.  
  
They watched the increasingly fucked up video on one of the TVs in Dutch’s war room. Burke had forced himself into a wheelchair from the infirmary in spite of his obvious discomfort, scowling at the screen as John Seed made a subtly threatening gesture towards Hudson’s neck. She was bound and gagged and had obvious, mascara-dark tear-streaks on her cheeks. She didn’t look hurt- she was standing under her own power and didn’t seem to have anything but a few bumps and bruises on her- so there was that, at least.  
  
“ _Welcome… to Eden’s Gate._ ”  
  
John’s face froze on the screen; Dutch had paused the video.  
  
He shook his head. “Shit.”  
  
Rook made a choked sound, clenching her hands on her lap.  
  
Burke’s expression was grim. “He hasn’t killed her. That’s good: If I had to guess, John’s trying to bait us into coming for her and snaring us once we do.”  
  
“Where would he even have her?” Rook asked.  
  
Dutch heaved out a long breath. He hit a few buttons on the TV, rewinding the commercial and pausing at certain moments. “I think,” he declared after a few minutes, “This was filmed at his ranch- it’s on the very south-west corner of the valley, not too far from the Ryes’ place. Whether or not he’s keeping Hudson there, I couldn’t say- Eden’s Gate owns property all over the county, from farms to stores to houses, so they could have her squirreled away anywhere.”  
  
Rook’s shoulders sank. “Shit.”  
  
“Best thing you can do is go out and try to coordinate with Pastor Jerome and Mary May Fairgrave,” Dutch recommended, leaning back against the table. “They’ve been gunning up to fight the cult for ages, and they may have more intel than I do- especially since they’re on the ground in John’s territory.”  
  
“Where do you think they are?”  
  
“Fall’s End, most likely- might’ve retreated to the Rye place if not there. Could’ve gone to Lamb of God Church, too, I heard a bit on the radio suggesting that Grace Armstrong might be-”  
  
“Sorry to interrupt,” Burke said, raising a hand weakly. He’d lost a lot of color again, and his breathing had grown labored. “But I gotta get back into a bed, my hip is fucking _screaming_.”  
  
Rook helped to the nearest bedroom, alternating between pushing him in the wheelchair and helping him balance and hobble while Dutch got the wheelchair through the doorways. By the time they got to the room with the bunk-beds, Burke’s breathing had grown even more strained. Rook helped him into the bed, helped him arrange himself in the best position to avoid aggravating his hip.  
  
“You should rest,” she said. “Dutch and I will figure out where Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson are and work on a plan of attack.”  
  
“Hudson and Pratt, sure- but I’m not gonna lie about being concerned about Whitehorse right now,” Burke growled as he settled in. “Seeing as how he wanted to leave all this shit ‘well enough alone’.”  
  
Rook sighed. “Could you please stop taking shots at him like that? Whitehorse isn’t that bad of a guy.”  
  
“I didn’t say he was,” Burke said coolly; Dutch took this opportunity to pointedly amble out of the room without offering input. “But Whitehorse didn’t even want to try to arrest Joseph, remember? ‘Not a man to be fucked with’. You saw the video, Rook. You saw what Joseph Seed did to that guy, and you know what he’s been alleged- you know what? Fuck legality, you know what he has _absolutely done_ to dozens of other people before that. Whitehorse was willing to walk away from that because he was scared.”  
  
“Yeah, well, Joseph is _fucking_ scary.”  
  
“God damn it, _you- are- a- cop!_ ” Burke barked, and smacked his hand down on the mattress with every word. “Being scared is part of the job! You think this is the first time I’ve been sent after some whack-job with an armory of bombs and guns? You think this is the first time I’ve been injured in action? This is a new level of crazy, but for fuck’s _sake_ , cops don’t get to just lie down and pretend it’s not happening because they’re _scared._ The people of this county rely on the Sheriff’s Department to protect them, and your Sheriff wanted to ‘leave well enough alone’ and not even _try_ to make an arrest. I’m not saying he’s a bad person, Rook, but I am saying he needs to sack the _fuck_ up and do his job.” He paused, softening minutely. “Like you have.”  
  
Rook was quiet.  
  
Burke sighed, and continued. “You’ve gone above and beyond, okay? You’re a one-woman army. You’ve done your job, and you’ve done it well, especially for someone brand new to it. Believe me, the first time I had to pop a guy it fucked me up pretty bad and _you_ are handling it very well by comparison.”  
  
“Oh, the breakdown is coming, don’t you worry,” Rook mumbled.  
  
Burke nodded, mouth tight. “Probably is, yeah. But my point is that Whitehorse has a lot to answer for where this county is concerned, and for how Eden’s Gate has gone unchecked. If he’d actually tried to do something before, if he’d reached out for help sooner instead of sitting on his ass and waiting for someone _else_ to contact a higher authority, you wouldn’t have to be doing this.”  
  
“You weren’t here- how would you know what he did or didn’t do?”  
  
“You’re right, I wasn’t here,” Burke agreed flatly, spreading his hands indicatively towards his body. “And neither were you, for the most part. You got here- what, a month ago? And me, I’m just an outsider, a third-party, who happens to be dealing with the fallout from Whitehorse’s inaction- along with the rest of the damn county and everyone unfortunate enough to be trapped in it, _including_ your fellow Deputies. So forgive me if I’m not overflowing with sympathy right now, Rook.”  
  
Rook couldn’t argue with that. “Who did call you? Who contacted the Marshal’s office?”  
  
Burke hesitated. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”  
  
Rook frowned. “Well fuck, Burke, I’m not going to break their kneecaps.”  
  
Burke thought on it for a moment ( _did_ he think Rook was going to break their kneecaps? Jesus) rolling his jaw. “It was a joint effort. Bunch of community leaders gave testimony about what was going on here. We were given a good chunk of solid evidence about Eden’s Gate.”  
  
Rook could tell this wasn’t all of it. “And?”  
  
“ _And_ …” Burke gave a little shrug. “Apparently your fellow Deputies might have no-so-subtly expressed to these members of the community that they felt helpless to do anything against Eden’s Gate; partly because of the cult’s financial and social influence over the county, and partly because they’d been instructed not to make trouble with them by Whitehorse.” Another pause. “That lady Dutch mentioned, Mary May Fairgrave, asked Whitehorse to investigate her parents’ deaths; Whitehorse refused because of Eden’s Gate’s involvement. Apparently he had some sort of confrontation with Hudson afterwards, and she nearly quit on the spot.”  
  
Rook shut her eyes. That sounded like Hudson: She was so lovely, very friendly, but not the sort of woman who handled inaction (or any sort of bullshit) well. If someone needed help and she was being told to back off and leave it alone, Rook could picture her reaction down to the precise expression on her face. “That must have been before I got here.”  
  
“The dates suggest that’s the case.” Burke let out a long sigh. “Look, I get it, okay? You’re loyal to Whitehorse. I’m sure he’s a good boss, and I’m sure he’s not the worst man in the world- Joseph Seed’s getting that distinction from me right now. But he got complacent, Rook. He wasn’t fighting the cult: He was managing them, and he was _way_ out of his league. The people of this county are pretty pissed off about it, and they have every goddamn right to be. Dutch told me there’s a friggin’ _militia_ that’s up in the mountains that was specifically formed to fight the cult! If that doesn’t tell you that a ball’s been dropped here, I don’t know what will.”  
  
“Obviously,” Rook muttered, picking at a loose thread on the jeans Dutch had given her. “Obviously, a ball’s been dropped. Not debating that.”  
  
Of course she did it.  
  
As one of the highest authorities in the county, Whitehorse had a lot to answer for; but Burke and Whitehorse had come into this disliking each other from the get-go, and she wasn’t sure how much of this was Burke being genuinely pissed off about Whitehorse’s ownership in this clusterfuck, and how much of it was him playing the petty ‘see, see, I told you your Sheriff was fucking up, I was right!’ game.  
  
Didn’t make that much of a difference in the long run, but Rook’s nerves were fried and her patience was running low for the day.  
  
Burke rubbed his eyes. “Look, Rook, I’m in pain and I’m pissed off, and I’m still shaken up from last night. So I’m not in the greatest mood, and I can’t even go out and give as good as I got. So if I’m coming off as hostile, I’m sorry.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I spent the day killing people and maybe I don’t feel all that interested in getting into a pissing match,” Rook grunted.  
  
Burke nodded. “I get it. I’ll save my bitching for another day.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
[---]  
  
“I am _not_ staying here.”  
  
Well, it had been a new day for about six hours now, so technically Burke had kept his promise.  
  
“Your hip is broken.”  
  
“I’ll _hobble._ ”  
  
Rook grimaced. “Let’s be real, you’re barely even capable of that.”  
  
“There’s no way you’re leaving me alone with Dutch.”  
  
“Don’t be rude,” Rook chided, shoving a spare pair of jeans into the backpack she was taking with her. “He’s done a lot for us. I really think you should stay here.” She eyed him pointedly. “And _not_ piss him off.”  
  
“That’s a tall order, Rookie.”  
  
“Why can’t you two get along?” Rook asked, mildly bewildered. “You’re both-” _Incredibly cynical, salty old men._ “-I mean, it just seems like you’d get along better. You share some traits.”  
  
Burke snorted and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Look,” Rook sighed as she hauled the backpack straps over her shoulders. “You can’t walk- you can barely hobble, or stand for long enough to get in and out of the wheelchair. The county’s been taken by a hostile cult. The one medical center in the valley is a long ways off and it’s probably not even staffed right now. I don’t even know if they’d be equipped to help you- I don’t even know if the people who staffed it are still alive or physically capable of helping you, even if they are equipped. If you come with me it’d have to be in a car, and we are _both_ going to get caught either because we’re moving too slow to escape, or because we’ll drive right into one of the roadblocks Dutch said the cult’s set up. The hope is that I can meet up with the Resistance and maybe find a way to calm the situation down. Then I can come back to get you.”  
  
Burke clearly didn’t like this idea.  
  
“I’ll be back when I can. Just don’t kill each other until I get back.”  
  
“I make no promises.”  
  
Dutch seemed about as eager for the arrangement as Burke was.  
  
“Eh, he’s growing on me. Y’know, like a fungus.”  
  
Rook pressed both hands to her face. “I’ll bring Burke to a doctor as soon as I find one and it’s safe to move him. Do not choke each other out until then.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
  
She noticed their conspicuous lack of agreement and decided it would be best to liberate Hope County as quickly as she possibly could.  
  
For now, Rook set out for Holland Valley with her bow and pistol to take care of John Seed.  
  
-End


End file.
